Belated birthdays

In case you hadn't heard, Rae had a birthday last week. There were balloons, salmon kabobs, wine, cheesecake, a Wii, phone callers singing in harmony, phone callers not singing in harmony, several annoying cards with pre-recorded birthday messages (Kaylee loved these) and a very special birthday card made of yellow construction paper, drawn with yellow markers and held together with yellow Band-Aids.

I'm still not sure why the fine folks at day care thought Spongebob Squarepants adhesive bandages would be what made the card extra special – but these are the same people who are teaching serial killer 101.

Today, as part of the official birthday weekend, we started off the day at the zoo* where we saw all kinds of cool things. Basically the same cool things we see every time we go to the zoo – but I guess almost two-year-olds see things a little differently. (Either that or they just have really bad long-term memories.) But we talked to monkeys, laughed at the otters, shot water at mom and got a little closer to feeding the giraffe. (That über-tongue just freaks her out.)

The day wrapped up with a trip to a friend's pool – where Kaylee got to experience swimming in something larger than the bathtub, but a little less fishy-smelling than Lake Michigan. Loads of fun and Kaylee was super cute in her little green swimsuit.

So, of course, I forgot the camera.

I'd blame it on Rae, but it's her birthday.



* A NOTE TO THE SOCIALLY INEPT: Dear lady. I think it was wonderful of you to tell your 10-year-old daughter and her cousin that it was rude when they cut in front of my child at the zoo this morning. My cute, adorable, not-even-two-year-old daughter. Manners are something that children do not come by naturally – they must be taught. That you were willing to stop your child and tell her that what she had done was inconsiderate is commendable. So imagine how surprised I was when you then did a complete 180 and then encouraged your kid to stop and pose for a picture. And then had her pose for a picture with her cousin. And then had her cousin pose for a photo on her own. Did I mention that my child was still standing there, waiting patiently for your kids to get out of the way? Did you not notice my wife and I standing there, staring at you with open mouths? We eventually gave up and walked away while you and your kin continued your photo-op. I figured it was just best to get my child as far away from you before she picked up any of your bad habits (and before I taught her any choice four letter words.) Some may say that you needed to be confronted, that if allowed to walk all over an innocent child you would just continue to do so in the future. I like to think that karma will take care of you and yours. So when little Sally comes home pregnant at fourteen or your pickup truck is clipped at a stoplight by a speeding SUV maybe you'll finally remember the lesson that it's not always easy to wait – but sometimes it's important.